


Nexus

by milka121



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Gen, Horror, Psychological Horror, Space Horror, fic with art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23328928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milka121/pseuds/milka121
Summary: Something came back from the darkness between stars they delved into and it wears a familiar face.
Relationships: Aina Ardebit & Galo Thymos, Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49





	Nexus

**Author's Note:**

> Beautiful art at the bottom [by Raynef! ](https://twitter.com/Raynef_art)Thank you! Please check them out!

They save the world, and it’s beautiful to watch.

Aina can hear Galo’s laugh even from where she’s standing. Heris is still clinging to her, but all the eyes are on them - Lio’s smaller figure, Galo’s tall silhouette. They are talking, Lio’s voice too soft to hear from here, but Galo’s is as booming as always.

“Yes! The world’s number one firefighting idiot!” Another laugh, and then they bump fists, the touch lasting long, longer than it usually does with anyone else. A tinge of jealousy prickles at her mind, but she buries it deep - it’s not about her, not for her to break the moment by being like a prissy lovesick teenager. 

They have saved the world together, died and came back, and that must count for something. 

But maybe, she thinks, it will die down, simmer from a stone-boiling inferno to a lukewarm spark with time as they move forward.

Aina looks up, and the stars are clear.

* * *

There’s something different in Galo’s eyes now. And she wouldn’t know, seeing as she has never met Fotia before, but she has a feeling he is different, too.

It’s not something she notices at first - hell, she’s pretty sure no one but her noticed it at all. But she has always been looking Galo’s way, memorizing all those little gestures and habits of his, and now it all clashes down. The way he’s sitting, the small movements of his head, choice of words. It’s different. It feels different. 

She tries to confront Lucia about it one day, almost two weeks after the end of the world. “Is it just me, or is something up with Galo?”

Lucia pops the lollipop out of her mouth. “What do you mean? He looks the same to me.”

“Not in, well, physical way. Just- He just _feels_ different.”

Lucia’s eyes widen - and she grins. “Oh, because he’s all over Lio now?”

“No!” Her face burns. Lucia still has that grin on her face - she knows, she has to know, always too observant and analytical for her own good. And it’s not like Aina has been hiding with her… Well, it’s not like she can do anything about her own heart, especially not now.

Aina fakes a cough and collects herself. “No,” she tries again. “Something just… feels off.”

“Hm.” Lucia’s grin doesn’t disappear, but it weakens, somehow. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s just growing up finally.”

So he _did_ change. Aina is at least correct about that one. 

Well, Lucia may be correct, too. Things that happened changed all of them, slowly, but steadily. The Burnish are the most obvious ones, but just one of the full equations. And Galo - Galo must have been impacted the most out of them all.

But it still doesn’t feel like the right answer. Something at the back of her mind nags her about it, about all that inexplicable small details she may not even be aware of herself, but that are still present, just out of her consciousness, like a shadow in a corner of her vision hovering over her.

“Yeah,” Aina says, “you’re right.”

* * *

It happens the next week, when Aina is on duty.

Galo is too. He sleeps in the lounge while Aina deals with some papers and checks the equipment - normal, routine stuff to fill the time. She has explained the procedure to Lio today, and credit where credit is due, he looked eager to learn, brows furrowing and nodding along as she dumped all that information at him. Galo kept stealing glances in their direction, and Aina kept pretending she doesn’t notice or hope that they are directed at her and not the small boss. He knows better, of course. But knowing doesn’t mean her heart gives up. Not yet, anyway.

She shuffles another document to sign to the side and freezes.

Galo is standing behind her, unmoving. She hasn’t heard him wake up or walk. 

Galo is never quiet.

She turns around. “You- you startled me.”

Galo keeps staring. None of his muscles move. It doesn’t look like he’s even breathing, blinking- and he keeps _looking_ at her with those eyes, dark and expressionless, nothing like the fire he’s so proud of, and for the first time since she met him, Aina feels uncomfortable with his presence.

“Galo?”

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t breathe. 

And then, he opens his mouth, and Aina sees something coil in his throat, something dark and big, too big to be his tongue, slithering out with a low gurgle coming out of Galo’s mouth, shifting against Galo’s skin, ready to burst through it-

Aina screams.

She becomes aware of Ignis patting at her back what feels like hours later, her throat sore and mouth dry. From the corner of the room she catches Galo’s face - like a kicked puppy, still full of guilt even though he doesn’t know what happened.

Aina takes the rest of the night off.

* * *

“Oh, Boss is sleepwalking, too.”

Aina perks her head up. The two lackeys of Fotia are at the station again. Aina usually tries to pay them no mind - there’s no love between them, nor animosity, but she can sense that they need time to get used to one another before they can try to build some kind of camaraderie. 

All of that goes to hell with that one sentence. “Fotia is sleepwalking?”

They turn their heads in her direction. The one with long hair seems suspicious, but the redhead - Gueira, she thinks - is more open. 

“Must be the pent up energy thing,” he says. “We were always on the run. Old habits die hard and all. Probably just has to do something to fill time.”

Aina wants to ask them more, but what would she tell them? No one saw what she did, and even of that she is not sure. She might be tired as well.

Then again, she still remembers that sheer, primal need to _run_ as she looked at what was inside of Galo. What _is_ inside.

She hums, nods, and tries to look interested in the equipment in front of her as they reluctantly go back to talking.

Later, she forms a plan. Well, not a plan, really - that would imply that she knows what to do to fix the problem, now. She doesn’t. She only has an idea. A suggestion that may or may not be worth it.

She can’t ask for permission without rousing suspicion, so when her next shift comes, she sneaks into the camera room and boots up the computers. There’s a lot of data, white noise of recordings that are completely unusable for her, and locating the right folder takes a lot of time she doesn’t have. Another minute wasted at trying to figure out how fast forward works on this thing, and - there.

That one night Fotia and Galo had a shift together, alone at the station. That one night Aina glosses over then, but it was before Galo did - whatever that was. Because whatever is happening, Aina is sure it’s connected to Fotia, somehow. 

Somehow, when they were alone at the end of the world, something happened. 

Aina finds the right hour and presses play.

The recording is grainy and there’s barely any sound - not surprising, considering what happened to the whole city. It’s a miracle it even works at all, able to capture their longue, and a sleeping figure on one of the sofas she quickly identifies as Galo. And next to him sits Fotia.

Aina can’t tell if his eyes are closed or open as he sits with his head down.

Then he raises his head, and Galo does, too, immediately, with the same pace, as if they were one organism, one being. 

Galo shifts on the couch and Fotia does, too, smooth, long movements that make Aina’s skin crawl. Their poses mirror each other - legs tucked under, hands on their sides, head high, and it’s all the same, even with their contrasting bodies.

And they stop, unmoving, still as if they haven't changed at all. Are they looking at each other? At something else?

It lasts for eternity, this stillness, and Aina is about to fast forward to see how long it will last before they move again, turning their heads in perfect unison.

They stare at the camera, and Aina can’t breathe.

Their mouths are moving, the same, inexplicable rhythm, quick and sharp, their tongues rolling as if they weren’t sure how to use them. Their eyes are dark, darker than she ever remembers them being.

... _nexus…_

It repeats. It loops. It has to loop, because there’s no way they just sat there, looking at the camera and mumbling, whispering, _staring_ as if they knew Aina would be watching, all alone in the room no one knows she is in. It has to be a joke, a prank, because all other alternatives are ridiculous.

She doesn’t understand. She can’t understand. 

The door behind her opens.

Something stands there, wearing a familiar face. Something stares at her with eyes that aren’t theirs and walks to her with legs that don’t belong to them.

Something came back from the darkness between stars they delved into.

Something shifts under their skin as they lean over her, no breath on her skin as their mouth touches her ear.

_You will understand._

She doesn’t scream this time.

* * *

Aina understands.

**Author's Note:**

> Both me and Raynef are taking commissions rn! Check out the link to Raynef's twitter at the top or  
> [here mine](https://twitter.com/Milkaa121)!


End file.
